A Secret of Light and Dark
by Fictionalconfessions
Summary: AU Originals/VD crossover. Klaus is the King of New Orleans with his brother Elijah standing by his side. His mother and father are back from the grave; that with the separation from his daughter Hope, what more could go wrong? Perhaps the discovery of a dark secret he's had hidden away will push this hybrid over the edge... or will it be his salvation? Klaroline!
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is a new idea that kinda came to me out of nowhere about my OTP Klaroline. I do want to stress that despite the undertone of onesided Klamille (gross), this is absolutely a Klaroline fic. This is my second fic, and it's my first that's not a oneshot, so please be kind-it is well intentioned I swear. 3 Anywho-the rating is currently T, though the intention is to perhaps bump it up to M further down the line, we'll see what happens ;3

Summary: AU Originals/VD crossover. A twist on the canonical Originals storyline. Klaus is the King of New Orleans with his brother Elijah standing by his side. His mother and father are back from the grave, determined to make his life miserable. That with the separation from his daughter Hope, what more could go wrong? Perhaps the discovery of a dark secret he's had hidden away will push this hybrid over the edge... or will it be his salvation? Klaroline, Haylijah, and a few other minor pairings.

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><p>She felt a smile stretch across her face before her eyes even opened, just thinking about last night. All she wanted to do was cuddle up to the man that had somehow found a home beneath the surface of her skin over the past year. The man she swore she'd never fall for, and yet here she was, the morning after a wonderful night of passion.<p>

Her arm stretched out, instinctively looking for the comforting warmth that his body subtly radiated, only to be met with cool sheets. Her eyes immediately snapped open and searched all around, but Klaus was no where to be found. She tried to ignore the stab of pain in her heart at finding him gone, but she wouldn't let anything bring her down. Perhaps he'd just wandered off for a snack... though she hoped not.

"Klaus?" she called out his name, knowing that if he was anywhere around, his supernatural hearing should be able to pick up her voice.

When no answer came she rolled herself out of the bed, slowly dressing and taking in her appearance in the mirror in the corner. No matter how much she tried to fix her hair, she couldn't get rid of the bed-sex head until it had a thorough wash and like an hour of brushing.

"Klaus?" she called his name again as she began wandering down the halls of the Mikaelson mansion, surprised that absolutely no one was around. Not even one of the many manipulated foot soldiers in their service.

She found herself walking to the room he was most likely to be in. The grand war room, he always called it, though to normal people it was a study at best. The door was ajar, inviting her in, so at first she thought he might actually be there. However, she soon found that the room was entirely empty save for the portraits and statues, and stacks of papers everywhere.

About to turn away to continue her search, she noticed an easel with fresh paints opened all around in the corner of the room. Telling herself to resist the urge to peek at the inner thoughts of the tortured hybrid artist, she found herself unable to turn away and walked over to the painting.

It was obvious it wasn't finished, as there was still an exceptional amount of blank space. However, in the center was a woman, so beautiful that even she couldn't deny that the blonde in the painting was exuding sheer radiance. Her hair was gold like the sun and it seemed like every array of emotion from happiness to grief was shown in her eyes, like a tortured light. She was painted with so much detail, and so much emotion, even she found herself feeling a sense of adoration, much like she imagined the artist felt when he painted it.

It was then that she shook herself out of her fixation and remembered that it was Klaus that had painted this beautiful woman. Jealousy began to rise as she couldn't help but wonder who she was, and why Klaus painted her with such emotion. Especially after the night they had shared together just last night. By the smell of the paints, and the sheen apparent across the surface, it was just hours old. After being with her, he'd come down to his study to paint another woman. _I sure know how to pick 'em_, she thought as tears began pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"Hey Camille, have you seen Klaus?" Hayley's voice startled her that she nearly jumped a foot in the air like she'd been caught doing something wrong.

She took a few seconds to compose herself as she drug her gaze off the painting and up to the brooding werewolf-_hybrid_, she corrected herself. "I was actually just looking for him myself. Did you need something?" She smiled, pulling up the facade she'd steeled for herself over the years.

Hayley took a few steps into the room, obviously curious at what Camille was so enraptured over. "I'm just a bit concerned that Elijah still hasn't come home. I was wondering if maybe Klaus had seen him. Perhaps you have?" There was a hint of hope in her voice that Camille could easily pick up. It was obvious that the hybrid had a tough as nails exterior, but on the inside, she was truly cared for those close to her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen him in weeks," she said as Hayley rounded the easel and looked upon the painting. "Do you know who she is?" she couldn't help but ask.

Awestruck much like she'd been, Hayley took a few moments before shaking her head. "Not really. I just know that she's a forbidden subject in this house. Not explicitly per say, but highly recommended for those that enjoy their hearts still in their chests."

She felt her jaw tick at the thought. Instinct told her to run and not look back, forget all about Klaus and the mystery woman. He was the dangerous bad boy that was singing the siren song luring her to her doom. It wasn't too late to turn back. But even that did stop her from continuing. "She must be important." She couldn't keep the jealous tone out of her voice.

Hayley looked over and gave her a knowing smile. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. He'll sometimes paint her and get in distant moods every once in a blue moon, and then all traces will disappear and he'll be back to his normal asshole self. I'd give this painting here til the end of the day before it ends up in the fireplace."

The thought wasn't as comforting as she was sure Hayley had intended it to be. All of her years of experience in psychology told her that it was a giant red flag. Suppression to that level meant that he was holding onto this woman like a poison on the inside, holding onto an obviously dark past that pained him so much that he would get rid of all traces of her memory.

She tried not to dwell on it. She looked down at her watch. She had a meeting with her adviser in two hours and she didn't want to be late. Of course she couldn't just walk out and leave like nothing had happened though. She took one quick snapshot of the painting, for some reason needing to know the truth behind the mystery woman. She wouldn't be Camille if she could let things go.

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><p>I hope you enjoyed the first glimpse at this fic. I know it's not much for now, but please review! I would truly appreciate any feedback. :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again! I really have to start out by giving you guys a huuuuuuge thank you for all of your reviews, follows, and favorites. I wasn't expecting nearly the amount of feedback that I got and so again, I really want to thank you guys because it gave me the inspiration to get my butt in gear and get back to writing.

One major think that I noticed from the reviews that kept recurring was that people kept pointing out that Hayley knew Caroline from Mystic Falls. I probably didn't make it obvious enough, or give a big enough indicator, but this story is AU! There are a lot of things that are the same to the canon, and this is tied very closely to the current Originals canon. However, again, this is AU. I don't want to give too much away, because all should be revealed in the next chapter about who Caroline really is.

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><p>A little bell chimed as he pushed open the door and stepped into <em>Le Sort de S<em>_orcière_, a shop not too far from the edge of the Quarter. Immediately he was assaulted with a multitude of different herbal scents that his head began spinning, delirious from the onslaught of strong aromas. It took him a moment to gain his composure before he pressed on and turned the corner to the back of the shop where the owner stood behind the counter.

The owner was an older woman, probably pushing her upper sixties; her age was quite apparent-her skin was like dark, tanned leather, with wrinkles that pushed at the corners of her eyes. "Klaus Mikaelson," she immediately recognized him. "What might I ask brings you in today?"

She smiled headstrong like she was greeting a regular customer and not the harbinger of her doom. It was actually a quite admirable quality, one that was very rare and he saw less and less of. Even he with his blackened cold heart could respect this woman, just from that smile.

"I am in need of a witch." He hated witches, more than any other creature. It wasn't their nature, or even the people themselves, but rather his reliance on them that was so annoying. It seemed like he couldn't make it through any battle without having to call in a favor, or rather threaten their annihilation for compliance.

Her smile didn't waver as she resumed what she had been doing before he'd walked in, which was grinding up herbs in a mortar with a red marble pestle. The scent of herbs rejuvenated in the air once more, and he attributed the vile smell to what she was mixing. Sometimes sensitive noses backfired.

"You're looking for your brother I assume."

He took a few steps closer, a slight threat evident in his stance as shock took over his features. How had she known his intentions? It must mean that she already knew of Elijah's disappearance, and most likely his whereabouts. "I imagine that my mother has him tucked away somewhere and I would like to know where." _Now_, the word was left unsaid, but his patience, or lack there of, was infamous in the Quarter.

She reached out and grabbed an amethyst pendulum, swinging it back and forth over the mortar with concentration. "The original witch does indeed have your brother, but that is the least of your worries Mr. Mikaelson." The ground herbs began floating around the pendulum, that was now glowing a bright purple.

His hands reached out to the counter top and gripped down hard, creating contusions in the tile slab. "What do you mean witch? What could possibly concern me more than my brother's safe return?" He was indeed irritated, but at the same time, he was also curious. A part of him was certain that this witch was manipulating him, but the other part, the even more paranoid half needed to know what new threat he need concern himself with.

"Many witches have unique gifts, most of which are hereditary and bloodline based. I am what we call a Seer. I can see the past, the present, and even glimpses of the future. That is how I knew you would be coming in today," she said and outstretched the pendulum to him. "It's also how I knew you would be needing this."

Not wanting to take it just in case it was a trap, he couldn't help but ask, "What is it?"

She pulled it back, shaking her head at his paranoia. "The original witch has something in her possession, a special weapon you could call it." He wanted to rip out her throat from how vague she was being. "This stone will reveal the weapon when it is near."

He narrowed his eyes at the now dull pendulum and then back up at the witch. "What is this weapon and why should I take your word for it?" By nature he was a cautious man, and he couldn't afford to blindly trust another witch after the moonstone crisis. For some reason, however, he felt that believing this woman could end up in his favor.

She obviously suppressed a laugh at his expense which made him feel the urge to growl in frustration. "I can't make you trust me, nor can I reveal to you what this weapon is, but let's just say that you surviving is in my best interest." Her smile widened as she once more tried to offer him the stone.

He stared at it for what seemed like minutes, weighing the consequences. He hated witchcraft for reasons like this. One silly little stone could be a trap, even a catalyst leading to his own demise. It could, however, also be as the witch said and help reveal this new weapon of his mother's.

At the end of his internal war, he found himself reaching for the purple stone bound at the end of a silver chain. "Just know that if anything goes wrong, and I find out that you've lied to me, I will kill you and everything you've ever cared about." His infamous smirk now stretched across his face.

He had to give her a little bit of credit, because her smile didn't waver in fear like he'd anticipated. Without another word from either of them, he left the shop and found himself walking aimlessly deeper into the Quarter.

Stuffing the stone in his pocket, and pulling out his cellphone, he listened to all of the voice mails and read the few missed text messages. He had one voice mail from Hayley, asking where he was and asking about Elijah. Another voice mail was from Marcel, asking for him to come to the younger vampire's hideout on the outskirts of town. A few other voice mails were from business associates and miniscule vampires asking for favors.

The only voice mail of interest was from Camille asking him to meet her at Rousseau's later for what he could only assume was a date. He couldn't face her though. Not right now at least. Not after last night.

It was true that he had a soft spot for the brave bartender, but it wasn't in the way that he knew she was yearning for. He'd been caught up in the moment after her nearly being killed yesterday. That moment, when Mikael was ready to kill her brought back a plethora of emotions and memories that he'd thought he'd long since buried.

A memory of a strong woman, filled with light and purity, flashed in his thoughts only momentarily before he forced it down. He couldn't afford to think of her right now. He'd spent the better part of the night and the morning already thinking of nothing but her and drowning in his sorrow, locked away in his study trying to recapture her beauty.

_Caroline. _

He felt his chest tighten and his lungs lose all air. Why did she still haunt him? Why couldn't he move on? It's been almost a century and he still can't find a way to escape the pain. Deep down, he knew that he never would. _"Forever is a long time."_

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><p>Aaaaand the end of Chapter 2! Finally got to look in on our main man heartthrob. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please leave me a review because they make me so happy and thanks again for reading. :3<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! I know that it's been a while since I last updated and I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry. I got caught up in finals and then the holidays and then catching up at work and then going back to school. I've been a busy little bee. But every time I saw an alert for a review, follow, or favorite, it made me so happy and I want to thank you guys for sticking with me all this time. So without further ado, here is the third chapter. :)

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><p>She was always told "Hell hath no fury over a woman scorned," but the hybrid now knew that both couldn't hold a candle tot he fury that she was feeling right now. No fury could match that of a mother wolf without her child. And now, after losing her daughter, she wasn't about to lose Elijah too. She refused to give up on him, and she would find him with or without the help of others.<p>

If Elijah were here, he would tell her to stay safe, that going straight to the lion's den was an unnecessary risk. If he were here, he would tell her that she was being foolish and reckless. If he were here, he would tell her...

She closed her eyes for a moment, pushing down the thoughts. When her eyes reopened, they were the yellow irises that revealed her animal nature, revealed the fury that lay just beneath the surface ready to tear through anything and anyone to get back those she loved.

Since the witches had taken up full time residence in the cemetery it had been closed off to visitors and tourists. The sign that had the list of times of the tours now had a ribbon marking draped across it now marking it off limits. But nothing was off limits to her. She would tear through any limits to find Elijah.

The tall iron gate had a padlock on it that would have easily deterred others, but not her. She reached out and the heavy cast iron metal easily gave way beneath her brute strength. With the heal of her boot she kicked the gate open and was about to step through, but some unseen force was stopping her.

She let out a grunt of frustration and tried again and again to step through, but it was to no avail. She knew Elijah was here and she couldn't leave without him. She could only imagine the horrible things being done to him by his bitch mother. She'd lost Hope. She couldn't lose him too.

Taking a few steps back, she began searching around the gate, hoping to find a loophole, some way she could get in. There had to be something. There was always something.

"You are a stubborn one, I see," a woman's voice said from the gate's opening.

Hailey's attention immediately snapped to the tall, slender woman with black her just beyond the gate's edge. Her skin was so pale, but in a way that made her features glow, particularly her icy blue eyes. Even Hailey had to take a moment to admire her enrapturing beauty, but it was only for a moment before the rage returned.

"Where is Elijah?" She immediately demanded.

A smile spread across the woman's face, slightly mocking but at the same time holding a soft emotion behind it. "You love him." It was an observation, not a question. "I admire your headstrong nature to protect the ones you love little wolf."

A wave of discomfort like a bucket of ice spread throughout her body at the nickname. No one had ever called her that but Klaus, and hearing it come out of this woman's mouth sounded almost like a dagger to the chest. Was this woman Esther? Did she jump into a new body already?

"Let him go. Give him back to me."

The woman shook her head and the smile that had been on her face for some reason appeared to turn sad. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I can only give you the assurance that he is okay for now and that if you do not leave now, you will not be." And with that, she turned and walked away, disappearing behind a mausoleum.

"Hey! Come back here!" Hailey yelled and yelled again, lacing her screams with threats and curses. Realizing that she needed a new battle plan, she also turned away, but only with a silent promise to Elijah that she would be back. She pulled out her cellphone and for what seemed like the fiftieth time today tried to call Klaus.

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><p>Klaus gave his former protegee the courtesy of knocking, knowing that he had to be civil if he planned on using Marcel to save Elijah and face the new threats that kept surfacing.<p>

Not even a second later the door was swung open, but it wasn't Marcel standing behind the door. Instead it was a girl, probably not much older than a teenager, with a rebellious and lost look in her eyes. He only knew that look so well because he saw it so often when he looked in the mirror.

"Can I help you?" She asked all too defiantly, probably thinking him some low human or weak vampire that she could overpower, but oh how wrong she was.

"Woah Gia, I got this one," Marcel's voice says suddenly from behind her and he quickly pushes her behind him defensively.

Klaus only smirks at the gesture, knowing that Marcel had thought him about to kill the impudent little fledgling out of misplaced anger. Perhaps he hadn't been wrong. Maybe he would have killed her. Probably.

"Klaus, to what do I owe this pleasure?" The charismatic vampire asks, but doesn't open the door, obviously not wanting the hybrid to come inside.

The slight doesn't register very deeply as there are more important matters to attend to. "Ah Marcel, I have come to enlist your help to deal with this little witch problem running a muck in the quarter. And, of course, to rescue my dearest brother who seems to have been taken."

There was a moment of silence and the smile on Marcel's face dipped a little before stepping back and extending the invitation for Klaus to enter. The dip in Marcel's smile only further inflated the arrogant one stretched across Klaus's face.

Inside the open studio apparent were ten fresh faces, all new vampires by the smell of them. He wasn't stupid, he'd known that Marcel was building an army to take him down. That army of wet noses, however, would be useful to him now to take down his mother and father, though he doubted any of them would survive. It was all about numbers and strategy after all.

"I see you've found yourself some new toy soldiers."

The insult as always seemed to bounce off Marcel's thick skin, the charismatic vampire back into full swing. "These toy soldiers are going to help us take back the quarter. Unless, of course, you had another reason for coming here."

It was then that a new vampire came down the stairs and Klaus was momentarily distracted by the bright flash of blonde hair. Just that was enough to send him reeling back into his thoughts that he'd dwelled in earlier. _Caroline_. Not that the little vampire looked anything like her. It just seemed that everything was drawing him back to her now. Why, after all this time, couldn't he go an hour without thinking about his lost love? It seemed like she was in everything around him, and yet, she wasn't there, so it made the reminders all the worse.

He knew that Marcel could sense the distraction, and his protegee was smart enough to probably deduce the reason too. Knowing the thoughts could only lead to bad things, Marcel quickly distracted him by asking "So what's the plan?" 

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><p>Who is this spicy new character? ;3<p>

Please leave a review, they make me so happy. I also want to thank you guys again for sticking with me and favoriting and following this story. It really means a lot and I hope to have the next chapter up shortly.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello everyone! I've risen from the Lazarus pit after being sick for what feels like ages. This is the chapter where a big secret is finally revealed. I feel like it will help shed more light on this story. I also want to thank you guys for your continued support! You guys are awesome and I'm so glad to see so many of you, more than I would have guessed, interested in this story. I'm actually working on the next chapter right now and I hope to have it up tomorrow. :)

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><p>He ran through the plan over and over like an obsession to distract himself as he headed to Rousseau's. Speaking of distraction, nothing was better suited for the title than the brave bar tender and the strongest whiskey money could buy to dull out memories.<p>

She's working behind the bar, serving drinks to all sorts of sordid customers, each trying to garner her attention. Maybe if he cared more he would feel jealous, or even possessive of what belonged to him, but he couldn't muster up even the slightest bit of emotion. He wanted to. Oh, how he wished that he felt the urge to rip out the college student's throat that was making sappy eyes at Camille. He wished that he could go into a blind rage at the sight of the musician whose touches lingered too long. Perhaps he could fake it, and maybe he could fool himself, but he doubted he could fool the chunk of ice in his chest that sometimes passed for a heart.

As soon as he takes a seat, her bartender instincts kick in at the entrance of a new customer and she looks over at him. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the look she shot him looked positively lethal. If he wasn't immortal, he was sure that look would be hazardous to his health.

It was the sight of that look that threw him back into the memories that he'd been so fervently trying to avoid. He could still remember that look in another's eyes as he constantly continued down his destructive path. The look in the eyes of his beloved as he once again did something to destroy her faith in him. The only woman that had dared glare at him such as he drove a dagger through her heart time and time again.

It took nearly thirty minutes for Camille to shrug off her obvious silent treatment of him and finally approach him. "What can I get you?" While the silent treatment had ended, it didn't mean that he was anywhere close to her good graces. He wondered if it was because he'd left her to wake up alone this morning. Though he wasn't really sure what she'd expected.

"Perhaps a shot of whatever is on your mind." He shot her his trademark dimples that could make nuns fall to their knees. He knew that it was going to take a lot of charm to get him out of the proverbial dog house that he'd somehow found himself in.

"Sorry, fresh out," she snapped back and turned to help another patron.

Not one to be shrugged off so easily, he walked over to said patron that she was helping. "I think you've had enough for tonight mate," he laced his words with compulsion and took the seat as soon as it was vacant.

When she returns with a glass filled fresh from the tap, her expression immediately falls and she rolls her eyes. "You have got to be kidding me." She sits the drink down before turning around to the other woman behind the bar. "I'm taking my break. I'll be back in ten." She turns back around to him and motions with her chin to the isolated corner of the bar. "You, over there now."

"I see that you have a full-."

"How do you feel about me?" She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

He's taken off guard, though in the back of his mind he knew that this confrontation had to happen after last night. He thought heavily about how to answer her question, but he wasn't sure how. He didn't really know what to say.

After several moments of silence, she must have picked up on his internal struggle, and surprisingly didn't run off. But then she wouldn't be the brave bartender if she ran from a battle. And this was a battle. One she must know that she wasn't going to win, but still fought through. Truly admirable in its own sense. Maybe in another life he could have returned her feelings, but even just that thought was enough to bring the memory of Caroline to the forefront of his thoughts and he knew even that was a lie. No matter the life, his heart and soul would always belong to one woman.

"Who is the woman in the painting?" Her question felt like a bucket of ice water laced with vervain splashing him in the face.

His eyes widened in surprise though he tried to mask it immediately. "Sorry, but you'll have to be more specific." He tried to play off the ignorance, but he knew that his seconds hesitation was seconds too long.

She was shaking her head, fighting back tears and in that moment he couldn't help but pity her. "Don't play me for a fool Klaus. You know who I'm talking about. I saw it this morning after I woke up alone and looked for you. The paint was still wet." The implication in her voice was enough for him to sense the betrayal she felt. He could hear the hurt in her voice, see the tears in her eyes.

Caroline.

Memories rushed at him and for a moment he was lost in the ethereal of his thoughts. _Klaus! _He could hear her beautiful voice still crying his name with such love. _You're not a monster. _Beautiful sweet Caroline. _I love you._ It was like she was there still whispering it in his ear.

He felt tears begin to form at the corner of his eyes. For a moment he thought about killing the woman in front of him. Just for daring to have the same hair color as _her._ For daring to look upon him in his moment of weakness. He wanted to taste blood to drown out his sorrows.

Before he could make a careless mistake, he ran out of the bar as quickly as he could. Quicker than the human eye could ever pick up. He was gone before she could even blink. And he fled to the only sanctuary he had.

He closed the double doors to his study, not bothering to lock them because the futile mechanism did little against the strength of supernaturals. Though he was also able to sense that he was the only one home, which for that he was grateful. He knew that his brother was missing, captive by his mother, but at this moment, all he could care about was that he was alone.

He found himself standing in front of the problematic painting. Staring back at him was the face that he could never forget no matter how hard he tried. The eyes of the only woman that he'd ever loved held him captive and he couldn't look away. It had been nearly a century since he'd last seen them in person. So much hate and love were reflected in them.

It still amazed him how such a beautiful creature filled with so much light had loved him, the true embodiment of darkness. He was Lucifer basking in the glory of her light, never able to get enough. It was his darkness that had consumed her at the end.

He sat there for hours, staring at the painting and getting lost in the reel of his memories. So many memories. Too many to be able to forget. Even alcohol wasn't that strong. If only he could compel himself to forget. If only he'd been human, he wouldn't have had to continue to live for lifetimes after her passing.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to an intruder. A woman by the sound of the heels. He couldn't bring himself to be alarmed as he instinctively knew that it was the woman that could never run away from her battles. It only took a minute before those footsteps came to a stop right behind him.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he heard her say, but didn't turn around. "I was pushing too hard when you're obviously in pain."

He didn't respond and she didn't continue. Instead she poured herself a glass of brandy before taking a seat on the couch next to him. They sat there like that for he wasn't sure how long. He knew that she was trying to comfort him, or maybe even reassure him, but he found himself still pained regardless.

"Who was she?" Her tone was much different this time. She'd taken on the therapeutic calming voice instead of the scorned, jealous lover.

He cast a sideways glance at her and he could see the concern in her eyes, like she wanted to ease the burden on his shoulders. But the joke was on her. He'd already been crushed beneath its weight ages ago.

"Her name was Caroline. Caroline Mikaelson." It was the first time he'd spoken her name aloud in years. Decades even. He'd tried to supress her memory, but he was finally coming to realize that that was never going to happen. She would always be in the forefront of his thoughts. He could never forget the most wondrous creature to ever step foot into his life.

He heard her gasp next to him, aware that he'd shocked her. "I don't suppose she was another sister?" She awkwardly gave a little laugh, trying to play down her outward emotions.

It was then that he turned to her, finally making full eye contact. "She was my wife. And I killed her."

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><p>OMG the big reveal! Caroline is Klaus's wife and she's dead? What?! This story sucks?! Where is my Klaroline?! How can we have Klaroline if one half of said couple is dead?!<p>

Please review and throw the above questions and accusations at me. Feel free to tell me whether you love or hate the story. Even negative feedback is feedback and can be used constructively.

Thank you guys for baring with the grody Klamille stuff. It makes me cringe even having to write it but it feels essential to the story and to Klaus's character. Also, I know this may seem a little out of character that Klaus isn't out scouring the streets for his brother but he's in a really bad place right now. He's an emotional wreck. And he really has to get himself together before he can be any help to anyone else. And come on, Haley is on a war path to find her man. ;)

Until next time. 3


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